


Discoveries at the End of the World

by Talimee



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Flash Fic, Icelandic Isolation Policy, Prompt Fic, The North Sea, Worldbuilding, ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee/pseuds/Talimee
Summary: Decisions and Discoveries are made when a Norwegian whaler and an Icelandic patrol boat meet in the North Sea





	Discoveries at the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Y'know, with the recent developments in the comic I would naturally want to write Angst, right? Or at least my OTP finally hitting it off?  
> Yeah, nope. Worldbuilding it is.

Title: Discoveries at the End of the World  
Summary: Decisions and Discoveries are made when a Norwegian whaler and an Icelandic patrol boat meet in the North Sea  
Characters: various named and unnamed Ocs  
Rating: general audiences  
Setting: pre-canon, the late 30's, Iceland is still in isolation, the North Sea, Navy-headquarters in Reykjavík  
Tags: worldbuilding, working from prompts, flashfics  
Prompts: Any Norwegian Character(s) - this sea-beast is an Icelandic ship; Any Icelandic Character(s) - the end of the isolation policy

  

~*~

**Discoveries at the End of the World**

 

“You're sure it's not broken?” Captain Thea Sanderson tapped the side of the bulky radio-station but a glare from her radio-officer let her hurriedly take it away.

“Yes, Thea, it's not broken. It worked fine yesterday and the day before and _the day before that!_ It's just static.”

Both looked outside through the slightly cracked cockpit window. Outside the North Sea was rippled with waves, and the fog had nearly crept up to them.

“Gimme the maps”, the Captain said to her navigation officer and was handed a crinkled wad of paper. She riffled through them before putting one particular map down.

“Here, we're here, right?”

“Yes.” The navigator Ole Torpholm glanced at where she was pointing.

“Where was the _Valkyrie's_ last signal?”

“Here.” Ole pointed to a spot a few sea-miles eastward. Thea searched around before picking a pen out of the radio-officers bun and marking the spot with an X.

“And the _Gøran_?”

“Here.”

“The _Mushroom Magic_?”

“Let me check.” Some riffling of paper. “Here.”

They continued a while longer – the navigator pointing out the estimated last positions of the ships the Norwegian Navy had lost in these waters during the last decade, the captain marking them on the map.

There was a long silence when they had finished.

“Dritt.”

“What is it?”, the radio-operator asked from behind.

“Either this whale-beast we are searching for is … No.” The captain shook her head. “Check that first, Ole. Do we have an old map of international waters around?”

They worked in silence for a few minutes more.

“And we are here?”, the captain asked again. This time with the voice of someone checking a fact they did not want to be true.

“Yes.”

Captain and navigator looked at each other.

“Better get that harpoon ready”, she said and waved Ole to follow her outside. The radio-operator left his station and took up position behind the steering wheel. He looked with interest at the map both his superiors had left behind: a smudgy, uneven, flat curve ran across it. And it was definitely a curve.

His head snapped up when he heard yelling from the front. A huge, dark shadow had appeared behind the fog, looming over them – and the _Nisse_ was not a small ship! He yanked the wheel around, trying to prevent a collision, when the fog parted to reveal –

“By Thor”, he breathed. “It's not a sea-beast we're tracking – it's a ship!”

 *

  **Mutiny**

 

Vice-Admiral Guđrún Kristjánsdóttir stared blankly at the flimsy piece of paper in her hand. A long strip of it, coiling up at one end. She scrunched up her face, uncoiled the message again, and read once more.

„What a mess!“, she exclaimed at last. „What an _idiot_!!“

„May I?“, came a drawl from her side which still send shivers down her spine. She handed the piece over.

„That's it for his career.“

„Who cares about that?!“, she snapped. „It's our heads on the block if the Council can't find a way to turn this into something positive.“

She scrunched the message up and flung it in the general direction of the waste-paper basket.

„Adjutant!“, she yelled, before turning around and storming out of her office, the other Vice-Admiral in tow. „Call my driver! Get me an appointment with Councillor Arnardóttir! _Do it!!_ “

Her adjutant did.

After he put the receiver down on the gable he got up and took a cautionary look down the navy command centre's floor before stepping back into his office and locking the door. On velvet-shod feet he whisked into the Vice-Admiral's office, retrieved the message and read:

 

_> >Report M/S Freyr – alien vessel confirmed – sighted along coordinates XYZ – Norwegian whaler late 20th century – wooden additions – crew apparently … <<_

 

The adjutant's eyes flitted over the minuscule typing but nearly fell out of his sockets when he reached the end of the text.

 

_> >decided to forgo standard proc – establishing contact – escorting whaler to Eskifjörđur – don't care if you have me court-marshalled for this – it's nearly forty years – the Rash is gone – there has to be an end to sinking ships just because they cross our borders! – fókk jú<<_

 

The adjutant looked up with glazed eyes. The whole world had just changed.

 


End file.
